Dad. I'm tired of your words, young man.
Jack. You won't be troubled with them any more. I'm going to take myself out of your way. I don't want your quarter of a million dollars, and I don't want your twelve a week.
Dad. Indeed, sir! And what may this mean?
Jack. It means that I'm going out into the world as a hobo.
Dad. What?
Jack. That's it!
Dad. Clever! Upon my word, a clever scheme! (To the others.) Look at him! The nerve of him! He knows he's misbehaved, and that I'll be angry—so he goes and puts on a masquerade costume, and tries to frighten me with a threat of turning hobo!
Jessie. Dad, it isn't that! He means to go!
Dad. I don't doubt that he means to go! But how long do you think he means to stay?
Jack. Six months, Dad.